Trovato

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Trovato, the eccentric violinist, headlining, departed his usual hit, but even he was not spared by the gallery gods, although he turned their razzing to good purpose with his fiddling imitations. As an act Trovato is a funny proposition, but it is this very puzzling eccentricity, otherwise “showmanship” that impresses. Entering fittingly, very a la “nance,” he earns for himself a cross between a derisive and pitiful giggle (although an audience may not translate their emotions in so many words), but at the same times commands an interest, which, fortified as he is by headline billing, turns the sympathy again in his favor. For the rest, Trovato holds his instrument a la cello and grinds out rag and classic which ofttimes strikes raspingly on the ear, but cannot be dismissed as poor instrumentalization. It is not.

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